Voice of Reason
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Missing scene for "Repression". Seven tries to get through to a mind-controlled Chakotay and fails ... or does she?


Voice of Reason

By Laura Schiller

Based on: _Star Trek: Voyager_

Copyright: CBS

/

"Tuvok to Chakotay."

"Chakotay here."

"_Pagh tem far bataney._"

"Understood."

Standing beside Commander Chakotay in Astrometrics, Seven witnessed the mind control taking hold of him from one moment to the next.

What frightened her most was how normal he still looked. Not a single thing changed about his face or voice or manner; he said _Understood _with the same slight nod and turned away with the same crisp economy of motion as he always did. Anyone else would have believed that nothing was wrong.

Seven knew better.

The Chakotay she knew would ask Tuvok what he was saying. Moreover, if he recognized the sound of Ancient Bajoran, he would know that was the worst possible language for Tuvok to be speaking right now. The Ancient Bajoran message from the fanatical Bajoran hypnotist, which Seven had just decrypted from inside Tuvok's private correspondence, was still on the screen in front of them.

Surely Chakotay would realize, any second now, that he was being controlled. Surely he would resist.

He walked out the door without another word.

"Commander?" she called, hurrying after him before the doors could close.

He ignored her. She walked faster, coming up alongside him, but he didn't even turn to look.

"Commander!" She grabbed his arm and swung him around to face her. "What are you doing?"

He pulled his arm out of her grip and walked on.

"Claiming this ship for the Maquis," he said, as calmly as if reading aloud one of her reports from Astrometrics. "Like I should've done six years ago."

"The Maquis are dead or imprisoned," she snapped, jumping in front of him to block his way. "The Cardassians are defeated. The cause you fought for has become irrelevant. You know this yourself from Starfleet's data-streams."

"As long as my crew lives, so does the rebellion." His voice was still low, but his dark eyes burned with conviction. She knew that look, which only made it worse.

"You are being manipulated." She forced herself to meet those eyes; they saw right through her as if she didn't exist. "Tuvok's mind-meld is controlling you. Resist!"

Was this how Captain Janeway, Tuvok or (ironically) Chakotay himself had felt, trying to get through to her when she was under the Collective's control? Had they felt the same creeping terror? Even if they had, they'd never given up on her. So how could she give up on him?

He stepped to the left, trying to get past her. She mirrored him. He stepped to the right and she followed.

"This isn't your fight," he said evenly, almost soothingly. "You're not in Starfleet. Their conflict with us doesn't concern you. If you stay out of this, I promise you won't be harmed."

This Teero's techniques, Seven realized with a shiver down her spine, were more insidious than the Borg's. They worked _with_ individual characteristics, not against them. It made sense; why fight for your free will if you didn't realize you had lost it? Even now, Chakotay was still a diplomat. She, however, was not.

"_Voyager_ is my Collective." Despite herself, a note of pleading came into her voice. "I will not see it divided. Cooperation is all that has kept us alive so far."

"Cooperation, yes … " Chakotay frowned and, for the first time, seemed to genuinely focus on what she was saying. She almost began to hope – until his face hardened. "By _their_ rules. But you don't belong on a Starfleet ship, do you? Their hierarchies and protocols are inefficient, I've heard you say so. In the Maquis, we do what needs to be done. There's a place for you, Seven. Join us."

To her surprise, he stepped forward, right into her personal space, and held out one hand. Was that a symbolic gesture, or did he actually expect her to take it?

"Not without Captain Janeway and the others." She locked her hands behind her back.

"Don't worry about them," he said, dismissing six years of comradeship with a coldly indifferent shrug. "We'll leave them on the nearest M-class planet with enough resources to survive. But you … " He caught her gaze and held it relentlessly, coming closer and closer, until she could see the gold in the brown irises. "My crew will need you if we're going to get through the Delta Quadrant in one piece … _I _will need you."

Of all the times for him to speak to her like this, in a voice so low that she could almost feel its vibrations … Seven forced herself to concentrate on the words instead of the tone.

"What about Icheb?" she demanded. "He is a Starfleet cadet, however remote and irregular. Would you exile him as well?"

"Not if he resigns his Academy membership. Can't you see, Seven? This would be the best thing for him too. He could study astronomy on my crew as well as he ever could with Starfleet – better, because he'd do it independently. If you won't join us for yourself, do it for him."

He knew her. Even in this condition, he knew that she would do anything to help Icheb … but losing his place in the only social structure that accepted him would do nothing for the boy's welfare.

Then there was the Captain, who needed so badly to get her crew home … the Doctor, who would have to be forcibly reprogrammed if the Maquis wanted to keep him … Lieutenant Paris, who would be exiled by his own wife … the Wildmans, who would never see their husband and father again …

The Chakotay she knew would never want these things.

"I will not comply."

She spun toward the nearest control panel in the wall and jabbed two buttons. Force fields activated with a crackling buzz: one between herself and Chakotay, the other behind him.

"So that's how you want to play this?" Chakotay smiled darkly. "You know, it's funny … I warned Janeway when you came on board that you would betray her. Turns out I couldn't have been more wrong."

Too angry to be satisfied by that admission, she glared at him.

"I understand the irony," she retorted, "But then, I suppose betrayal always comes as a surprise."

Pain flickered in the depths of his eyes, but only for a moment, replaced by a cold fury.

He drew his phaser.

She pressed her commbadge, frantically thinking of whom to call. If she called Security, would the mind-controlled Tuvok intercept it? Even if she found someone uncompromised, what were the odds that they would reach her in time?

"Seven to - " _Janeway_, she decided at the last second, but the explosion of a burned-out power relay drowned out her voice.

Chakotay had fired twice in quick succession: once at the ceiling, to destroy the relay that powered the force fields, and once into her chest.

/

"She's coming around … "

"Seven, can you hear me?"

Seven pried her eyes open, squinting against the fluorescent light. She was horizontal – a sensation she still disliked – lying on the thin gray carpeting of the corridor outside Astrometrics. The side of her neck tingled as if from a hypospray, and someone's hand was touching her face. A medical tricorder whirred softly above her head.

Captain Janeway was kneeling next to her, holding the tricorder. A first aid kit, taken from a panel inside the wall, lay open on the floor. "You hit your head when you fell," she said kindly, "But I'm not reading any damage. Still, you'd better get to Sickbay just in case."

"The stun setting is harmless, Captain. I am fine."

That was when Seven noticed the second person standing over her. A few steps away, dressed in leather camouflage gear instead of his uniform, carrying a large pistol slung over his shoulder and looking distinctly unhappy, was Chakotay.

"Captain - " Seven sat bolt upright, energized by fear, and clung to the older woman's sleeve.

"Easy," said Janeway, wrapping an arm around Seven's shoulders to steady her. "It's okay. He's himself again."

"How … ?"

"Tuvok broke through Teero's conditioning," Janeway explained. "Once he did, he figured out how to reverse the mind-melds on all the Maquis crew."

"Starting with me," said Chakotay. "I'm going to the bridge now, to tell B'Elanna and the others to stand down. But first … I owe you an apology."

He leaned down and held out his hand to help her to her feet. It was so like and so unlike the gesture with which he'd asked her to join his rebellion that she didn't know how to react. Tentatively, she took his hand and stood up, letting Janeway steady her from the other side.

"For stunning me?"

"Not only that." Chakotay's palm was sweaty - he must have been much more anxious than his behavior had let show – but his grip was reassuringly tight. He let go as soon as she was on her feet. "For the things I said to you ... both of you," he added, turning to Janeway.

"Apology accepted." The Captain smiled and patted her First Officer on the arm. "We'll have it out over coffee, okay? Later. We've got a crew to deprogram."

"Of course," he said, with a respectful nod.

Janeway packed the hypospray and tricorder she had used back into the small metal suitcase, closed it with a snap, and pushed it into Seven's arms. "Sickbay. That's an order. I'm not taking chances with anyone's brains right now. And ask the Doctor to restock this while he's at it."

The older woman set off toward the turbolift at her usual brisk pace. Seven expected Chakotay to follow, but he fell back, walking next to her instead.

"Thank you," he said, too quietly for the captain to hear. "For standing up to me."

"Even though I failed?"

"You didn't." He glanced from her to the back of Janeway's head. "It's what you said about betrayal that got to me. I couldn't get it out of my head … "

"I was wrong to say that. You were not in control of your actions - "

"Never mind that."

He waved her apology away, and she understood why. The harm she had done as a drone still weighed on her conscience too, and it took real effort to believe her friends when they told her she didn't need to feel that way.

"Anyway," he continued, "What you said about betrayal always coming as a surprise … it gave me the idea to test Tuvok's loyalty. He passed." His voice took on a flat, dry, colorless quality that was worse than tears. "I failed."

"Clarify."

"I ordered him to kill the Captain. I knew the phaser I gave him was defective, but he didn't know that … _She_ didn't know that." His voice cracked at that last sentence. "I can't believe he actually fired."

Seven believed it. Tuvok had a talent for calculated risks. It was living with himself afterward that was going to be a problem.

Janeway looked suddenly very small ahead of them, her shoulders too narrow for her boxy uniform jacket, her coppery hair catching the light like Naomi's. She was holding the lift for them, leaning insouciantly against the doorframe, when most people would instinctively step inside to avoid being crushed. As they came closer, however, they saw that she looked tired; being held at phaserpoint must have shaken her, however hard she tried to hide it.

Seven's first instinct was to recoil from the man who would carry out such an order, and especially the man who would give it … until she looked up and saw the torment in his eyes.

She looked down at her Borg-enhanced hand, its assimilation tubules sheathed but still ready to pierce. She lifted that hand and placed it on his sleeve, transferring the the medkit to her human hand.

"Commander … "

He waited.

"The worst thing we did does not define us." Janeway herself had taught her that.

He covered her hand with his and held it gently for a moment, as if the metallic web between her fingers were a jewel.

"I pray that you're right," he said.


End file.
